


Alone and Together

by lucifersfavoritechild



Series: Ironstrange Fics [21]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boyfriends, M/M, Telepathic Bond, no bashing tho, not team Cap friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-19 09:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22475746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucifersfavoritechild/pseuds/lucifersfavoritechild
Summary: There's something weird going on with Tony and Stephen. Steve just can't figure out what.(short follow up to "Bonded")
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: Ironstrange Fics [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1095672
Comments: 10
Kudos: 586
Collections: Finished faves





	Alone and Together

Steve had no idea what was going on.

He supposed he should be grateful. They’d been accepted back into the Avengers with only a few months of bureaucratic foot-dragging rather than the years it might have been. And things were still . . . awkward, so to speak, but he thought they were making progress. Tony seemed more willing to endure his presence. Things should have been good. And honestly, they weren’t _bad_. But they were definitely . . . 

Steve looked at Stephen Strange, leaning close to Tony and whispering something in his ear while Tony giggled.

. . . _strange._

It seemed like the wizard was always around, hanging off of Tony’s arm, making sure he ate lunch, going on dates together. And while there was nothing strictly speaking _wrong_ with that — the worst thing Steve could say was that the sorcerers were highly unwilling to help them out except in specific circumstances, such as Tony asking — the weirdest part was that they never spoke.

Whenever the two were around, they rarely said more than a few words to each other. They sat in silence, actually seeming startled when someone _did_ speak to them. But that didn't stop them from randomly laughing out with each other or smiling for no reason, like there was some secret only they could see.

Even that was nothing compared to the way they just . . . _knew_ things about each other. Like when Strange popped out of a portal with food or coffee or headache medicine for Tony. Or the other day when Tony, completely unprompted, got up and soaked a hand towel in hot water with sweet-smelling herbs for Strange to wrap his ( _scarred, shaking_ ) hands in.

It was weird, but in spite of his long, confused glances and questions, they refused to explain. So, he let it go. Things were going well and it seemed stupid to risk it over something so harmless.

Until it wasn’t harmless anymore.

* * *

There were rock monsters in Central Park. Which was annoying, but at least they weren’t fire monsters. You had to take the bad with the good. 

With Stephen’s help, the mission turned out to be less than an hour when it might have taken a whole day before. Tony was, as usual, highly appreciative of his lover’s power, watching the way his hands and arms moved with grace and strength. He managed to control his thoughts during the fight itself, but once it seemed handled, he let his emotions seep into Stephen, punctuating it with the thought, _Those robes cover up your ass way too much_. 

Stephen smiled at him, lowering his hands and dissolving the mandalas. _Take me home and do something about it, Mister Stark._

Tony felt something like a purr, warm and comfortable and building to something better. _Maybe I will, Doc—_

Something bowled him over from behind, knocking him to the ground and striking him in the head. 

Moments later, Stephen fell to the ground.

* * *

Stephen turned his head against a pillow that felt like a stone, his vision blurred and weak, the blood in his head pounding like it was trying to break free of him. His back ached like he’d been trampled by horses. Even before he came back to himself, he could tell that bruises had formed, huge and dark and covering half his body. 

When he could see again, it was Peter beside him, legs and feet up on the lounge under him as he rested his head on his hands and looked up at Wong. “How’s Mister Stark?”

“Unconscious, but alive. I was able to undo the damage to his spine, but part of his leg is broken and three ribs. He won’t be able to heal entirely until Stephen awakes and can help him—”

 _Tony?_ The thought was clear and vibrant in his mind, calling out to him like an angel. _Tony, Tony, Tony, TONY—_

He shot up, ignoring the stinging pain that spread through his chest and back and tried to stand up. “Tony, where’s Tony?” He tried to reach him through the bond, but it was like grasping at fog.

Peter took one of shoulders, Wong the other, and together they pressed him back down to the bed. “Stay where you are, Strange,” Wong ordered. “You will hurt yourself this way.”

Stephen shook his head, then stopped when it felt like it would fall from his shoulders. “I have to go to Tony. I’m the only one who can—”

“You can help him,” Wong promised. “Once he’s awake, and you’re not two steps from falling.”

Stephen desperately wanted to argue. It felt like Tony was calling out to him from the other side of a forest. Intangible, just barely out of reach, yet so real. But then his vision was turning dark, and he fell back into his mind.

* * *

The next time he woke, Steve Rogers was there. 

“I figured it out.”

Stephen stared at him. It took a moment to remember who it was, and longer to roll his eyes. “Tell me what exactly, Rogers, you in your _infinite_ wisdom managed to—”

“It’s a kind of telepathic bond, isn’t it?” He barely even seemed curious, sitting up straight in his chair with the same seriousness he always did around Stephen and Tony, never letting his guard down. “It’s magic? Or maybe Tony’s tech, but probably magic, right?”

Stephen stared for a long time before nodding. “It is.”

Steve sighed, relaxing slightly, like a weight had been removed from his shoulders. “Why? What does it . . . what’s the point, what do you get out of it?”

Stephen looked at him with eyes that could cut glass. “Tony is mine and I am his. Our bond brings us as close as it is possible for two humans to be, nothing less.”

“It’s _dangerous_. What would have happened if Tony died back there?”

Stephen lifted his shoulders in a weak shrug. “At this point, our bond is strong enough that I likely would have died as well, though slowly and painfully.”

Steve tilted his head. “And the rest of us are just supposed to . . . be okay with this?”

“It’s not about you,” Stephen said quietly, his voice low. In the back of his mind, he _finally_ felt Tony start to stir somewhere, and it was almost enough to distract him from Rogers. 

“The team needs Tony, we need _you_. If you guys were gone, who will protect the world? You’re one of the most important sorcerers, don’t act like you aren’t—”

“Do you think we haven’t thought of it?” Stephen demanded, raising his voice enough to silence the captain. “Do you think we haven’t discussed it for hours, out loud or otherwise? That we haven’t spoken to Wong and Pepper and Rhodey, people whose opinions _actually_ matter to us? It doesn’t matter. This . . . it was hell to be without Tony for the short period I was. And if you don’t understand . . . well. It’s a good thing that I don’t care what you think.” 

Before Steve could respond, Stephen sat up in bed, the bond singing. “Tony’s awake.”

* * *

Stephen slipped into the bed beside Tony, gently wrapping his arms around his love’s bandaged torso. _Is this good?_

Tony sighed in relief. _Perfect._ He pressed a hand to the back of Stephen’s head. Stephen didn’t move a muscle, but Tony could feel his pain. 

“You’re hurt,” Tony whispered, quiet enough that no one else would have heard him.

Stephen didn’t respond with words. Instead, he pushed as much feeling as he could through the bond, love and relief and happiness and peace.

It wasn’t enough.

“I’ll understand if you want to . . .” Tony swallowed, forcing the next word out, “to end it. You shouldn’t have to— to _endure_ this, and you know that I never want to hurt you, or _see_ you hurt, and I—”

“ _Tony!_ ” Stephen sat up, grabbing his wrists. He was annoyed, Tony could tell, but also upset and worried and _hurt_. Stephen opened and closed his mouth, trying to say something, but nothing felt right. His thoughts were a painful, tangled jumble that made little sense when compounded with Tony’s. 

It took him a minute, but Stephen calmed, closing his eyes in contemplation before looking up at Tony. He drew him near, setting his scarred hands against his face and pressing their foreheads together. “Let go.”

Tony stared at him. It was something they’d done before, but only a few times, and never when one of them was hurt. “Are you sure?”

Stephen nodded. “Yes.” 

Slowly, Tony did as he said. The thin, fragile walls in their minds fell, and the bond took them over completely. They shifted, sharing thoughts and memories and emotions and more, so much more. They sunk into the bed, chest-to-chest and face-to-face, eyes closed but seeing each other all the same. And in that moment, they were one, in mind and soul.

_It's not a burden to share my pain. It's an honor to take it off our shoulders. I chose this because I love you as surely as you love me. We wouldn't have it any other way._

_Yes._ They pressed their mouths together, and Tony rolled Stephen under him, and soon the entire world was forgotten, and it was only them in the universe, alone and together.


End file.
